Patchouli
by Elexies
Summary: He had no interest in love, in sex, he didn't have time for it. Besides, nothing had much caught his attention anyway. But romance was never prone to happening at convenient times. Older Oliver/Oc
1. Chapter 1

_I've been contemplating trying this series for a while, so here's a wild attempt. Review if you please, or offer constructive criticism. Either/or is good. =)_

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There was a certain level of respect to be held for a scavenger outside the D9 wall. It was safe enough to scavenge within the confines of the fence, where guards watched them blandly and irritably. Despite plans for District 10, things had not gone through well and so many Prawns in such a tight space proved more destructive than the original prison for them, so the Poleepkwa had been moved back to their more spacious District 9. Fact remained though, it was safer to scavenge in the D9 junk piles than outside, where Poleepkwa generally weren't even allowed.

Oliver felt he deserved all of the respect that went to an outer scavenger. He'd always been sly though, quick, intelligent. One had to be in their world, if they wanted to survive for a long period of life and retain at least a small amount of dignity. Most of his brethren long ago gave up on the idea of dignity, most of his brethren lived in a more primal state, but his fathers were above such barbaric behavior. One had to grow up fast, and his fathers told him frequently how intelligent he'd always been, even at his very young age. He scoffed at the thought, closing his eyes a moment at the memory.

Young age, when Wikus, the Sweetie Man, first started living with them, when the man was always angry and always bitter. When life was full of hope and wonder and the fanciful opportunity of going home and seeing his planet. That was young age. He wasn't young anymore. He was beginning to reach his prime. Oliver grew up.

Wikus grew up too. He'd realized his situation and grew to accept it, and slowly he and Christopher grew closer, shyly at first, but even Oliver, at the time so innocent, saw the obvious attraction and knew it to be that bizarre emotion his father called 'love.' At the time it wasn't 'love,' it was 'lust.' A firm and heated attraction between the two that grew and grew, until one day Oliver felt the tension in their small shack as palpable as humidity, as real and choking as smoke. The two _wanted _each other and Oliver knew it. All of the Poleepkwa did. It was just waiting for the two prawns, one full-blooded and the other a hybrid, to see it as well. They eventually did, Wikus eventually grew up and accepted his obvious attraction, his obvious state of body, and the fact his wife obviously wasn't about to wait another twenty or so damn years for him. Besides, with Poleepkwa-hood came longevity. Oliver would gladly take an extended life over the bizarre, weak mortality that the humans lived with. He didn't think he would ever dare to give up his longevity just be with a silly, human woman.

Oliver pressed down against the white picket fence when the lights of a car flickered down the street he was scavenging on and waited for it to pass him. He was in the front yard of a house he liked to frequent. He didn't know the people inside, except that the two adults within worked at MNU, one as a secretary and the other as a researcher. He snorted at the thought. He had a pretty good idea the research wasn't nearly as Poleepkwa-friendly as the man would like to pretend. He knew the family had two children, an adolescent male and very young female by the smell of things, but he'd never seen them before, which was just as well. He wasn't interested. The only thing interesting about this family was they, like most the other families on this particular street, threw away some _very _tasty scraps.

His fathers thought he spent these evenings out at the local dump within the confines of the District, and they always congratulated him on his luck on the good things they found for their dinner table. Luck had nothing to do with it. It was all talent. He knew if they ever found out that he was actually sneaking outside the fence past curfew just to dig through the garbage of some snooty households, they would probably do far worse to him than any MNU agents.

Oliver froze when he saw the car skirt into the driveway of the house he was at. Usually by now the family within was asleep and the darkness tonight was heavy and safe. It was the best time to scavenge. The trashcan was beside the garage door of the house. Usually he came in, tore open some trash bags and found a few good things, put them in his sack and then ran. The garbage had a weekly pickup on Mondays. The food he got from this street always lasted his family long enough until the next trash pickup, when the garbage in the cans was brimming and smelled awful, but edible. Besides, a Poleepkwa didn't have the luxury of refined dining or the luxury of being picky.

Oliver crept back alongside the fence, pushing himself into the corner of the yard in the shadows, his heart pounding rapidly, nervously. This was a shitty time for the family to mix up their routine. Fook. He closed his eyes and curled up to be as small as possible, which was harder than he would generally like. Oliver had grown, a lot. He could easily look down on his fathers, both of them, towering over Christopher by a healthy foot. Apparently, his other biological parent had been quite the impressive specimen. It was good for keeping bullies in the District off his back, but sometimes made scavenging a _little _difficult.

The car was nice, expensive by the looks of things, not that he was surprised. It was an expensive neighborhood. Oliver watched as it stopped in front of the garage and turned off, the engine silencing with a smooth rumble, leaving the vehicle to sigh and click in the natural hum of the night. There were two people inside, a male and a female. The male smelled of heavy cologne that covered the female's scent and burnt at Oliver's nostrils and slowly he reached up and covered them, trying to block the smell. They sat inside for a moment, talking, though he couldn't hear very well, and then the driver's door opened, the male stepping out. He walked around the front of the car to the passenger door, all finely stitched clothes that covered him entirely from neck to toe. His hair was cut short, military style by the looks, and Oliver crept only closer against the corner of the fence, narrowing his eyes. The male opened the door and he watched as, first, a pale bare foot stepped out and settled comfortably on the concrete of the driveway, delicate little toenails painted a dark shade of green. He tilted his head thoughtfully, following the small foot up to a sweetly curved calf and to a knobby knee, before a modest, black skirt blocked his view. His eyes followed the path to a white blouse with many tiny, white buttons, to the creamy neck. He continued to the slowly curving jawline and small ears with pearl earrings pressed into the tender, strange flesh of the earlobes. Wavy black hair was pulled back into a messy little bun, gleaming a shade of blue in the shimmer of the starlight above the couple. He could barely make out the distinguishing features of the female's face, except for full lips and dark eyebrows. She was holding a pair of shoes with a frightfully sharp heel. They looked painful. No wonder she wasn't wearing them.

The male opened the truck and pulled out a suitcase and then followed the girl to the front door of the house. She fumbled in the pocket of her skirt for a moment, and then withdrew a key, opening the front door and walking inside, the male following. Oliver moved for the garbage can then, rushing across the yard, only to freeze again when a light came on in the front room. He looked about nervously, seeing himself completely visible in the yard with the light on and brimming uncomfortably into the yard, illuminating his presence. The light was bright enough even the side of the garage was revealed just enough that, should he dare to scavenge in their trashcan, the occupants of a passing car would most likely spot him. People were moving around inside the house and voices rose in noises of delight.

Fook again.

He rushed toward the house then, pressing himself against the side of it beneath the window. From his position he was once more safely hidden within the shadows. He grumbled silently to himself, crouching further to the ground, pressing against the cold bricks of the house. The grass tickled his belly, smelling sweet in the night.

He could hear inside the house now, not that the family was doing too much to be quiet. Lucky the children were generally heavy sleepers. It made sneaking past their rooms to even get to the front of the house a hell of a lot easier.

"Lesedi, Christ it's good to see you! My little girl!" That was the eldest male, the father of the house. "What took you so long?"

"Traffic." A male voice, probably the driver of the car.

"It was insane," the female— Lesedi?— said. Oliver hesitated, and then peeked up curiously over the window, peering inside the house. It was only the father and the two new humans. The young female was hugging her father, standing on tiptoes to do so. The male was grinning, his thumbs hooked into the pockets of his pants, as he watched the two of them. When Lesedi was finished hugging the two males firmly shook hands, gripping tightly enough Oliver could see the veins along their wrists bulging. He pinched his face up. Gross. Humans were much too exposed. It was a wonder they survived the day with how fragile they were, how poorly protected their body was from the elements, from each other. Even Wikus admitted how much safer he felt with the exoskeleton.

Oliver ducked slightly when the humans turned, but saw the father was only going to a cabinet, opening it and revealing the liquors inside. He'd never tasted liquor, and curiously wondered what it was truly like. Wikus had told him before, that it burnt but in a good way, a way that warmed the entire body and soothed muscles. He'd told him how a person felt freer, how inhibitions disappeared. Oliver would like to try, one day perhaps. It sounded nice.

"Have a drink with me, David," the father smiled and the male youth laughed louder than seemed necessary and nodded his head. Lesedi rolled her eyes and moved to her father, rising on tiptoe again to kiss his cheek.

"Glad to see a few months at college hasn't changed things much. I'm hitting the sack."

"You do that baby-girl," her father smiled and kissed her brow affectionately. Lesedi hugged David and their lips met in a chaste little kiss, but Oliver watched as the young male's hand slipped around her backside and hesitated over the female's rump, before pulling away. Oliver frowned curiously, noticing the unusual soft roundness of the girl's buttocks. Poleepkwa were soft in so few places and mostly their bodies consisted of attractive and defining angles. This female had very few, except perhaps the sharp line of her nose, but everything else was round and smooth. Tedious and gentle curves. Weird. Ugly.

Oliver watched as she moved from the room and hesitated, before following her general direction to the side of the house. He hadn't seen her before, wasn't even aware that the family claimed another child. That made three children. Most Poleepkwa were lucky if they could even make an egg together, and even luckier if the egg survived to a hatching stage, and _damn _lucky if the child hatched alive. Here appeared to be this family's eldest offspring. They had no idea how blessed they were.

He saw a light flick on in another window along the side of the house and looked around curiously. He should be going. He should get back to the District before he got stupid and got caught. He was curious though. Not that he was necessarily sure why. He didn't know of the other two offsprings of this family, why should he care about this one?

He sneered, narrowing his eyes, and then moved to leave, when he heard the window open. Her scent caught him up then and he closed his eyes, inhaling deep. It was an earthy aroma, a strange musk that he'd smelled a few times before from some of the humans that passed the fence. Wikus told him the humans called it patchouli and that most of them burnt sticks that smelled of the stuff to cover up the fact they were smoking some drug he called 'weed.' This didn't smell like an artificial odor though, the way it did on the other humans. This one was purely natural, purely basic, an undertone, something only a creature with advanced sense of smell would consciously pick up on. It was this girl's base scent, and Oliver damn well liked it. There was a shuddering knot in his stomach suddenly and he shifted, strong thighs pressing together at the pleased clench in his genitals. Fook, she smelled _really _good.

He turned and crept toward her window, looking cautiously out of the corner. The curtains were drawn over it and very slowly he reached forward and touched at the fabric, peeling it slightly to the side. Lesedi was undressing. He took a deep breath of air, biting down on a soft groan as her smell founds it way deep in his olfactory glands, making his body ache and his hips to jerk. He looked around nervously. This was so _stupid_.

Oliver never really saw a human naked before. His fathers kept him well away from the prostitute district, telling him firmly that he was above it, and Oliver felt he was too. Still, he was an intelligent Poleepkwa, and he was a _curious _one too. He took another deep breath of her, and positioned himself in front of her window, carefully opening the curtain just an inch or two more to give him a better view.

Lesedi had her skirt unzipped on the side and was shimmying out of it, her knees bending and hips rocking side to side as she slipped it down, revealing the creamy, white thighs underneath and the round buttocks David had so clumsily tried to grab, only to chicken out later. Oliver rolled his eyes slightly, never having understood human ideals of decency and properness, especially in the higher socioeconomic status cultures. He focused once more on her rump while she hooked her foot into the fabric and kicked it to a corner of the room. There was another, small, senseless piece of clothing covering her there, black as well, tightly hugging her plump buttocks. The young woman turned and moved to a small television on a dresser, pressing it on as she began to dismissively unbutton the blouse. Oliver studied the graceful motions, the ways the fingers moved so nimbly. He'd never been faced with such fine motions. He wasn't sure he would have the patience for such a top anyway. He'd rip it off and be done with it.

The young woman finished opening it and shrugged the blouse off, throwing it into the corner of her room beside her skirt. Beneath were full, round breasts, pale as the rest of her body, covered by yet _another _ridiculous piece of clothing. Oliver had developed a slight obsession with breasts, seeing them on many females, curious despite himself. Prawns did not have mammary glands. Poleepkwa had no need for milk after all. The children grew to a sustainable state within the protective confines of the egg. They were curious to look at though, exotic in their strangeness. Wikus had told him plenty about them, but simply being told didn't feel like enough. Oliver wished he could slip in the room, touch and study the sensitivity of such strange things. He remained still though, ignoring the budding in his body, the warming in his belly and the uncomfortable heat between his legs. It was arousal, he knew that. Why he was feeling aroused was the weird part. Lesedi smelled good, but she wasn't _that _good to look at, she was too weird, too fleshy, and too soft.

He huffed a little, eyes widening minutely when the girl reached behind and smoothly unclasped the contraption over her breasts, slipping it down her arms. Her breasts hung free before her, full and soft with a natural little dip to them. The nipples were a dusky shade of pink that almost blended with her natural skin tone. The girl turned and he ducked beneath the window, pulling it hand back, the curtain rustling minutely. When she didn't gasp or shriek to declare her discovery of him, Oliver opened the curtain again, enough for just a peek. She undid the bun her hair was in, long, thick black locks falling to the middle of her back.

The girl turned off the lights of the room and lowered the volume on the television, pulling back the covers of a very large, very comfortable looking bed.

The heat within him had grown uncomfortable and Oliver glanced around once more. It was still very dark. He'd have at least another three or four hours to get back to the District before light appeared in the horizon, hopefully. He squirmed, pressing his strong thighs together again, before rolling his eyes again. There was no point of suffering through this unusual agony and he could feel his penis pressing against its protective shell, trying to release and present itself. If he left himself as he was, the run back to the District would be fooking impossible.

He hesitated, and then opened the curtain a bit more, leaning forward to take a deep breath of the female. The erotic spice was once more all about him, engulfing as the arousal that flooded his body. She was in bed now, curled up on her side with her back to him. Her back was exposed, the slow and lazy curve of her spine down to her lower back where those round buttocks were hidden by the covers. He allowed his length to slip from its sheath, his hand touching over it gently, teasingly. Despite himself, Oliver had always preferred his male anatomy, which Wikus had joked once that it was just the way to know that he wasn't the girl in a relationship. At least, he hoped Wikus was joking. Of course, the hybrid _was_ still learning.

Oliver moved slightly closer to the window, feeling the cool air of the bedroom on his face then as he wrapped his hand delicately around his length, giving it a slow and fluid pump, his motions working faster. No point in teasing or agonizing. Why he felt this way, he wasn't sure, but it didn't matter. Could just damn well be hormones. Teenage hormones no less. He was at the point in his life he was supposed to start seeking a mate, but he knew he'd get past it eventually. Oliver didn't need a mate, didn't have time for a mate, nor did he particularly want one. Besides, he hadn't met a Poleepkwa yet that really interested him anyway.

He took another deep breath as he felt the burn grow hotter, his hips rocking faster with his motions and he opened his eyes, studying the female's back. He tried to keep his noises silent, biting down on the warm clicks and suggestive purrs. He wondered lightly what her small little hand might feel like and felt somewhat ashamed at the thought. Fook, here he was, sitting and gawking a human of all fooking things, and whacking off. He was no better than his brethren that gave in to their primal selves. Fook though, it felt good. The burning continued to grow until he pressed almost fully into the female's room, taking a deep inhalation of her scent and gasping as he came, felt the warm fluid of his sex spurt against his hand and on the side of the brick house and he gave a low and satisfied growl, imagining her small hands on him, her strange, exposed mouth around him. He felt his female sex clench with pleasure and he rocked his hips harder, thrusting, wishing momentarily perhaps there were something more filling within, but it didn't matter.

It was over.

He sighed in relief as the fires in his body cooled to a comfortable, manageable level, closing his eyes. Lesedi didn't seem to have woken up, which was best. If she woke up, she'd probably scream, he knew he would, should he ever find some strange, alien creature staring at him while _he _slept. Fook, he was a pervert. Oliver bumped his head against the windowsill, cringing at the firm click it made. The girl jerked in her bed and rose to a sit. Quickly Oliver ducked and scrambled then, tearing around to the front of the house. The light in the front was off, which was good. It probably meant the two males had gone to sleep as well.

He moved for the garbage can and ripped the lid off, shredding a bag open and grabbing the few items that looked edible enough. He turned then, not bothering to return the lid, nor to look back as he smoothly leapt over the fence to the street, taking off for his route home. Fook, he was an idiot.


	2. Chapter 2

_Hey ya'll. Thanks to those of you that reviewed =) Here's the next chapter. A little more mature content and voyeurism ahead. _

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Oliver shot the Poleepkwa that was inquisitively eyeing him a glare, knowing the gesture futile and probably stupid. He was acknowledging the behavior, something his father had told him plenty of times never to do. If he didn't want the attention, he should just ignore hopeful little suitors. If he ignored them, it didn't give them a chance to really interact with him. It's what Christopher did all the time. Even mated to Wikus as he was, other Poleepkwa were interested in Christopher. After all, he was intelligent and held himself far more proudly than most. He was an impressive example of their species, and Oliver was certainly aware he was growing into one as well, and his fathers would surely have it no other way.

Being impressive, being elite among his kind was somewhat precarious, especially if he wasn't particularly interested in finding a mate. The Poleepkwa that was studying him inched closer, a warm series of clicks coming from him. The suitor was painted, tribal markings decorating a dark green exoskeleton. It was something a Prawn did when they felt like impressing, and it was impressive. Paint, _good _paint, was hard to come by. It was house paint that was preferable, the kind that never came off of the exoskeleton. It was similar to human tattooing. Oliver remembered Peter, his father's friend from so long ago, used to be painted. It was handsome on him. Had Oliver been older, and his father not in the midst of sexual relationships with the Prawn, Oliver probably would've considered seeking out Peter. While not the _smartest _of Poleepkwa, Peter had been friendly and open, helpful and resourceful.

Oliver shot the suitor another filthy look and glowered down at the ground, picking fitfully at the tattered, threadbare shorts he'd found that morning, to replace the flimsy loincloth he'd been wearing. Oliver's attention away from him didn't seem to deter the bothersome suitor, who tilted his head and crept forward on all fours then, shyly, imploringly. It was willing to be the submissive, willing to let Oliver make the first _real _move, be it push him down or grip him close. There was a warm, spicy smell suddenly touching at Oliver's sensitive nostrils. Pheromones. They made the body ache with longing and Oliver could already sense his thoughts turning toward far more lewd and erotic tendencies. The aroma was sharper than the patchouli of Lesedi but very similar, very warm and alluring.

Fook, there it was.

He'd thought of her. Damn, he'd tried to forget what had happened last night.

The suitor was in front of him now, head tilted meekly and secondary arms touching and brushing over Oliver's belly. Oliver moved swiftly, snarling at the suitor and leaning back to rest on his lower back, kicking his powerful leg out, hitting the Poleepkwa firmly in the chest and knocking him back a healthy distance. The abused Prawn gave a high shriek, more of agitation than pain, and rose quickly to a stand and ran, finally recognizing the fact his company and advances were _not _wanted. Oliver followed him with glaring eyes, until he'd disappeared behind a ruined little shack.

"Touch-y!"

He turning around and stood sharply the human word, on the defensive, before spotting Wikus leaning against a shack. The hybrid's arms were crossed and a purely smug look rested in such expressive eyes, one of them still a shocking shade of blue, compared to the usual brown or gold of most Poleepkwa. His newest father swaggered forward and playfully imitated the suitor, making the same longing noises and pawing at him with his secondary arms. The only thing missing from the false mating dance was the heady fragrance of pheromones to try and cast a spell on the mind and force it to basic instinct. Encourage the body to lose control, something Oliver desperately did not want. He slapped the teasing secondary hands away dismissively and his father laughed, shaking his head ruefully, before speaking in the series of clicks and growl that were far easier for them to communicate with than the complex human tongue that forced the mouth to make such odd shapes.

"You know, I would _dare _to say you're moodier than I was when I first started changing."

"I'm not moody," Oliver snipped, glowering off to the side.

"You're moody."

"I'm _not _moody."

"You're even moodier than a woman on the rag."

"On the rag?" Oliver blinked and looked up to Wikus, who gave a healthy laugh and shook his head again. It was good to see the hybrid laugh, to see him happy. He was happier in general now, had been for the past five or so years that he and Christopher had been mated. Occasionally the hybrid grew silent and contemplative, his thoughts drawing back to his wife, but Christopher always did well at lifting him from his darker moods and after perhaps a day of sad reflection, Wikus would return to normal. Playful, charming. Poleepkwa-hood had done the man well, been like a second chance at life really, and Wikus became a good deal more open, not such a shy or bitter man any longer, but endearing in how little he gave a shit of what others thought.

"It's a human thing," Wikus informed him, snickering.

"Right," Oliver sighed, looking off to the side where the suitor ran off to.

"What's troubling you so much?"

"I'm just tired," Oliver shrugged and plopped back into a sit, Wikus sitting down beside him and spotting a flicker of something shiny to the side. He reached out, finding the gleaming paper wrapper of a candy bar, though the contents were long gone. He began to fiddle with it, tearing delicately and bending certain parts, starting to mold. Oliver watched him, admiring.

"Maybe if you didn't stay out so late scavenging," Wikus suggested.

"I like my late night hunts."

"I'm _sure_." The sarcasm couldn't have been better portrayed, not even in the human tongue Wikus was still so very fond of.

Oliver knew if he were human he'd be blushing, but he did the Poleepkwa version of a blush, ducking his head, his antennae flattening shyly against his skull. His gaze wandered to the side and Wikus gave a chuckle, nothing more than low, chuffing noises. Meekly, Oliver returned attention to Wikus as he began to slowly fashion a rose out of the shiny paper, the petals bright in the morning sunlight.

"Your father tells me you're moody because you're at a proper age to find a mate."

"Perhaps," Oliver muttered.

"Is that why you're so pissy? You're full of pent up, sexual rage?" The playful tone was back, but he knew that beneath the warm humor his father used, there was a serious question. Wikus was concerned for him, and he appreciated it. Oliver nodded his head, closing his eyes.

"It's just so fookin' stupid. I don't want to just give in to my desires all the time. I don't want to be some sort of animal, some mindless beast like…" He didn't continue, glancing toward some others that were play fighting, their motions violent and rough as they snarled and rolled on the ground, trying to pin the other. He looked away from them, scowling. It was more foreplay than fighting. Did they have to be so shameless?

"Your body has other plans," Wikus pointed out, and then heaved a human sigh, tilting his head back and looking up toward the clear sky. When he spoke, it was the human tongue again, his words slowed as he struggled to form them with his Poleepkwa mouth, not meant for such stretches, such shapes. "Look, when I hit puberty I was fookin' horney all the time. I didn't want to be and it fookin' happened at the most embarrassing times. Like in public places I'd just get hard and I couldn't control it. Sometimes, yeah, I couldn't help it and I'd find a private place and do my thing. Eventually the hormones eased and it all passed. But it was so fookin' humiliatin'. But it was just something that body needed at the time, it was just doing what came natural. It was an animal thing. Fact remains, you're an animal. Even _humans _are animals. And if you continue to try and act like your above animal things well…" Wikus paused and turned thoughtful, tilting his head. "Then when you _do _actually do the animal things, they won't be as much fun."

Oliver paused, and then looked to his father out of the corner of his eyes. It, strangely enough, made sense.

"That was actually rather smart."

"I took a psychology class in college once," Wikus was all clicks and growls again, but his posture still hinted at his original nature as he crossed his arms smugly behind his head and leaned back some, smirking with his eyes, his tentacles quivering with self-satisfaction. "Having sex with Tania used to be miserable until the class had that lecture, and I finally stopped being such a prick and just decided to have fun. It _was _fun."

Silence stretched between them as Oliver considered the words, wanting to ask Wikus what having sex with a woman was like anyway. Poleepkwa were usually so rough, but he wondered if humans were the same. Were they always tough, always brutal? Not that Oliver minded the idea of a struggling, rough time, fook no, it sounded great, but most Poleepkwa didn't _romance _either, not like Christopher had done for Wikus. It wasn't always about romance for their race. Sometimes it was nothing more than an urge that needed to be satisfied, just the desire to try and create offspring.

"Feel better?" Wikus asked after a moment and Oliver nodded his head. The hybrid offered him the rose he'd been working on. It wasn't entirely finished, needed more paper, so lacked in some petals, but it was still very pretty. Oliver wished he was as artistic as Wikus. His father offered a warm smile and stood up, brushing himself off needlessly and then he turned, moving back for their shared home, probably to help Christopher repair their getaway ship and continue working on the fluids needed to pilot it. Oliver turned and observed the man go, his brow creased slightly, before he returned to studying the paper rose, twisting it this way and that, contemplating the way it shone in the sunlight.

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There was no need to be back at the Lesedi's home, no real reason, because trash pickup wasn't for another three days, but Oliver was curious, and he'd been aching for days since last time he'd visited. The memory of his time outside Lesedi's window was still fresh in his memory and made him ache as much as when he'd actually experienced it. His sudden loss of control with his hormones, his arousal, was growing into a humiliatingly bothersome thing. While Wikus had assuaged his fears of losing himself to base instinct, having to find somewhere private three to four times a day to relieve himself was just plain ridiculous.

Worse, he found his thoughts always flickering back to the _human _girl. Human. Fook, she probably wouldn't even be able to physically handle a fucking. He saw what a Prawn that lost control could do to a human body. If the sex got too intense the ending result could be a human with internal bleeding, shattered hipbones, and a good deal of physical, and sometimes mental (if the human had been unwilling), trauma. He couldn't possibly be with Lesedi in such a physical, intimate way. He'd probably kill her if he got _too _into things.

He wasn't entirely sure how _returning _to the source of all his troubles was going to make things better either. He was most likely going to end up just thinking about her more and more.

Fact remained, he wanted to go back, and here he was, scrounging outside the rich little household. The parents' scents were less about the home, implying they were gone, perhaps a weekend trip now that the eldest daughter was there to look after the other younglings. The three inside weren't asleep yet, in fact, the two children were wide awake, playing some sort of game with their elder sister that involved a plastic sheet with brightly colored circles. They were all tangled together, awkwardly balancing on the mat, as Lesedi wobbled uneasily to flick at a square piece of cardboard with an arrow on it. It buzzed about for a moment before landing on some symbols. Lesedi was in a sort of crab-like position with her back arched and legs spread rather ludicrously, her sister beneath her and the young brother tangled between them. Oliver wasn't all that sure he could ever play such again without lewd ideas popping into his head.

"Okay, right foot yellow," Lesedi stated and the three of them tried adjusting their selves, only for the eldest sister to lose her balance and fall in a clumsy mess onto the other two. Obviously the woman had lost the game, but she laughed and her siblings joined in, amused with the defeat and end of their dexterity training. Oliver shook his head in confusion, but watched on silently, studying the eldest sister. She wore a battered and old pair of shorts and a t-shirt that fell to her thighs. The entire ensemble was baggy and rather unflattering, not that she was flattering herself, too soft, too curved.

Then why was he here?

He rolled his eyes and leaned against the side of the house, taking a deep breath of night air and the sweet, natural scent of Lesedi that taunted him even through the brick walls and glass windows that made up the large house. He rested his head back against the night-cooled bricks. This was stupid. He shouldn't be here. This place was only of interest because of the food, because it was something other than starving during the weeks or spending what funds they had on overpriced meat and cat food. He paused when he saw a vehicle starting to pull into the driveway, and then turned, racing around for the side of the house, keeping as low to the ground as he could and praying whoever was driving the car didn't spot him. Safely on the other side he peered about the corner, spotting the male from before, David. He walked up to the house and gave the door a knock, smiling at the shrieks of excitement from the children within.

The door was opened and he was welcomed inside. Oliver sighed and stayed curled up along the side of the house, well hidden away from the view of others. He didn't know what he expected. The most he could achieve by coming here would be giving in to his lustful needs while studying Lesedi's back again. It was a wasted effort. It made him nothing more than a voyeur, a pervert. He should leave. What had he hoped for anyway? That in some bizarre, alternate reality this girl would welcome him into her room and let him explore her body with all the curiosity of a young, inexperienced virgin Prawn? It was insane. He grumbled quietly and shifted his body, planning to crawl his way miserably out of their yard and back home where he could begrudgingly satisfy himself once more and then fall wretchedly into sleep, wondering just what the hell was wrong with him.

The light to Lesedi's room flicked and Oliver blinked, and then crept toward her window as he'd done all those nights ago. It was still open. It seemed the girl rarely, if ever, closed it. This was a 'good' neighborhood though, not a lot of crime or violence and it was located in a safer part of town not too far off from MNU headquarters, so the parents were in short distance of their workplace. What did she have to be afraid of, besides sex-hungry Poleepkwa that spied on her at night and pleasured themselves to the sight of her?

Fook, he was a mess.

He couldn't smell her warm scent over David's extreme amount of cologne, and he wondered how Lesedi didn't choke on it, with the male so close to her. Oliver carefully opened the curtain an inch, spying as Lesedi sat on her bed while David wandered about her room thoughtfully, making some stupid comment about how long it'd been since he last was alone with her in it, and then turned on the television. There was a news report about violence around the District 9 fence, and it warned all humans to stay away from non-human terrain due to the exceptional level of crime around it. He snorted softly at the words, shaking his head. Most of the crime was caused by the humans around the area. Sure, there were a few Prawns that liked to cause trouble, other elite, thinking members that looked for a bad time, but in general, most damage caused by Poleepkwa was _purely _by accident.

"Fucking Prawns," David sneered, crossing his arms.

"David!" Lesedi's tone was chastising and he turned to look at her, raising his brows.

"What? Don't give me any of that tolerance bullshit, sweetie," he chuckled, shaking his head and walking forward to sit down beside. He wrapped an arm around the young woman, drawing her close to him. She was stiff in his embrace, but relaxed when his hand rubbed over her upper arm. "They're fuckin' animals. Stupid animals."

"That's not so and you and daddy both know it," she reprimanded, crossing her arms.

"Right, right," he rolled his eyes. "Just because your little chartable Togetherness group at the college helped out a few of 'em doesn't mean they're smart or feeling. They're still dumb animals. They're still clumsy and violent. You're lucky you didn't get your head kicked off while you were out there feeding them. Or worse, have one of them try and take advantage of you. You heard the news of rapes?"

"David, really…"

"Your father would kill you if he found out."

"Which is why he won't find out," Lesedi stated, leaning back on her bed slightly with her hands behind her, supporting her. Oliver tilted his head, considering the two. So she was part of those groups that supported Poleepkwa tolerance? That was a bit of a relief. At least she didn't seem to be an avid hater like her father, or this male.

"Yeah, yeah," David murmured, leaning close and brushing his lips very delicately across the girl's. She leaned forward for more, her lips pressing to his with more determination and Oliver shuddered, feeling the sudden burn deep in his gut once more. The male reciprocated the young woman for a moment, but only a moment. Oliver was surprised when David pulled back, and Lesedi was too. Disappointment touched smoothly at her face and she tilted her head. "Anyway," David stated with a shrug, looking back to the television. "I wish you wouldn't go out there."

"Is that really an issue _right now_?" she asked, blinking up at him. He glanced at her and then shrugged once more, a red hue beginning to flood up his neck and over his cheeks. Soft irritation marred her face, and then obvious disappointment. Oliver's brow creased as he looked between the two. Usually humans that kissed were affectionate, usually they also considered themselves 'together' and did more things, just like Poleepkwa. Obviously Lesedi _wanted _more, and he could see the outright desire in the very way she held her body. She was open to the male, her shoulders back and her back arched to press her breasts out. Her eyes were seeking for his, trying to catch his attention, trying to plead with the subtle pout for more. Why was David uninterested? Was she also considered unattractive by human standards? It didn't make sense. The male tried to grab her buttocks last night after all, certainly a possessive and lustful gesture, and now he turned away when she offered him more.

"I really just stopped by to see your father," David declared suddenly, causing the girl's face to pinch up more and she opened her mouth, as if to snap something unpleasant, before she shut it with an audible click of her teeth. David glanced to her and flushed, reaching up to rub awkwardly at the back of his neck. "Nothing personal sweetie, just something down at MNU, you know."

"Uh-huh." Her tone was flat. "Well since you're _obviously_ not interested in having a good time and since you're _obviously_ not interested in _me _and since daddy _obviously_ isn't here because I could've sworn you _obviously_ knew that he and mom were _obviously_ going out for the weekend then perhaps you should just go." She was up suddenly and David was too, scrambling after her.

"B-baby, it's not like that!"

"I don't get it, David!" she threw her head back in frustration, moving for the door and catching the handle to throw it open, but he stopped her, setting his hand on the door and keeping it closed before she completely kicked him out of her room and probably out of the household as well. She huffed and crossed her arms, leaning against the wall and looking up at him, her voice softer and her dark eyebrows drawn together in consternation. "I mean, seriously, ever since we started having sex you've grown completely distant."

"It's not you, baby girl, it's me," David soothed, brushing at her cheek with his fingertips, pushing a few stray locks of hair behind her ear. "I just…"

"Just?"

"Just don't feel like I can please you anymore. Ever since you, you know…" He gave her a look Wikus had once referred to as the 'puppy dog face.' It was pitiful and Oliver swore instantly to himself he would _never _do it. Lesedi's eyes widened a bit at his words and she gave a harsh and shocked laugh.

"Is _that _what this is about? I ask for it rough _one _time and you're freaking out now?"

"Sweetie, I-I don't want to hurt you! I don't give it _rough_. I just give it the way I give it and you're asking for something hard and—"

"I'll _tell _you if you're hurting me!" she huffed, her hands snapping for her hips as her posture shifted, her hips cocking out as she leaned forward to talk up at him. Despite the fact she was at least a foot shorter than the male, she certainly seemed to have no trouble at all standing her ground to a taller, stronger opponent. "That's the point! It's a trust thing! I just don't want to be treated like a fucking _flower _all the time!"

"But baby, you _are _my flower!"

"I'm _not _a flower! I'm a _woman_ that occasionally wants to just _fuck _senselessly rather than always make love! I don't mindmaking love, but sometimes I just want to be an _animal_!"

Oliver blinked and tilted his head, watching the uncomfortable silence stretch between the two. She _wanted _to be an animal? She actually wanted to lose control and give into those primal and basic instincts? Oliver gave a tiny, musing huff, turning and slumping against the house, allowing the curtain to fall closed. He heard the two offer a few more words, before David decided perhaps it would be best if he did leave, and Lesedi agreed and showed him to the door. He heard the man start up his car and listened as the engine faded into the distance.

How was it that a human could be so comfortable acting like an animal? Obviously it wasn't all humans. David certainly seemed scared of the idea, as scared as Oliver was. He didn't really want to lose control. At least, he didn't think he did. Losing control, just giving up entirely to his passions and desires sounded like such a miserable experience, it made him no better than his brethren that walked around just to eat, play, fuck and fight. They existed within a careless sort of lifestyle, simply living to live and trying to get by through the day, pride and honor forgotten. It sounded like a useless existence, a bland and tragic one.

Yet, they weren't _un_happy. Sure, their living situations weren't the best and he knew almost all of the Poleepkwa longed for home, but fact remained, most of them certainly weren't as miserable as he felt half the time.

Oliver set his cheek in his hand, feeling the sharp ridges of it in his palm and he gave a curious click. Most of his brethren were animalistic, but happy. He was above such primal behavior, and he'd found himself only feeling wretched since his hormones really started to go to work at his body, guilty every time to soothed his urges. His father and Wikus weren't unhappy though, and the two were very intelligent beings too! Still, Wikus said he was happier when he let go during sex, when he stopped being concerned. In that case, did his fathers like to rough it up now and then? Did they occasionally give in to the animal side, the primal side?

Fook, it was all confusing.

He perked up when Lesedi's scent became heavy in the air once more and turned to face the window, watching as she walked back into her room. The noise of the children playing had grown silent, which meant she'd probably sent them off to bed for the night. Lesedi didn't look particularly happy, and he supposed he couldn't blame her. It must be frustrating to have a lover that was too scared to provide certain pleasures. Yet, her lover was only looking out for her welfare, her safety. Supposedly. Lesedi was right though: it would be a matter of trust, of opening one's self up for another experience, something maybe a bit darker, something very base and pure in how _natural _it was. David was too scared, or too prideful.

Like Oliver.

Would he be that sort of lover in the future? Too scared to give in to base urges and just behave beneath his dignity, beneath his pride, all for the sake of not only his pleasure but the pleasure of his mate? All he had to do was let go, and yet…

He sighed and closed his eyes, feeling a headache coming on. He returned focus to the young woman. She was sitting on her bed, watching the television with a tiny pout, her knees pulled to her chest, her brow creased and her small fingers drumming against her shins irritably. Had he not been able to smell so keenly, Oliver probably would have turned and left, figuring the rest of the night would be spent with her pouting, her moodiness, but he could smell the fiery desire of the woman, and it kept him still. He felt locked in his position on the ground, couldn't will his legs to move or his body to turn to the side or his eyes to tear off of her.

The patchouli was on fire, burning at his body and he reached down to touch over his shorts as Lesedi did the same for hers, her legs spreading slightly and her fingers ghosting between her legs. Oliver's eyes widened and he pressed closer to the window, deciding there was no real point in fighting the urges, not right now. He would lose if he tried. He took a deep breath of the room, catching the heat of her arousal, so maddeningly similar to the pheromones Poleepkwa expelled at will. The female laid back in her bead, undoing her shorts and slipping them, with her panties, down her hips to rest at her ankles. Uncovered, the scent of her sex was only stronger, a brimming, shuddering blaze that forced him to bite down on a growl. He pushed his shorts down as well, his length already freeing itself from its sheath and his hand wrapped eagerly about it.

Lesedi's fingers were delicately brushing and teasing over her sex, similar to the feminine one he possessed, except there was a small patch of dark hair over the pale lips. He wanted to move in closer, wanted to see better what was happening to the female, to analyze the foreign anatomy, but he couldn't, and forced himself to stay hidden. She made a small noise in her throat when she parted her nether lips, her middle finger curling within and along her sex. Her arousal was only increasing, and so was his. He began to pump his hand slightly faster, jerking his thin hips with the motions. She was moving so slowly, so insanely slowly. How could she want to be an animal and yet take her time, _tease _herself like that? He didn't tease. It was a waste of time to tease. He just wanted the unwilling moment of pleasure and lust over, and yet she here she was entertaining it.

Oliver chuffed and closed his eyes, slowing his motions begrudgingly to mimic hers, tediously moving his hand up to the very tip of his length then along the sensitive underside, studying the responses his body made to something other than quick work, studying the tension that bubbled within him. He peered through the shadows to the young woman when she made another soft noise, no more than a tiny 'oh' from full lips, her hips rising up off of the bed as she slipped a finger into herself. Oliver released his sex and copied her motions as well as he could, knowing his fingers to be disproportionately larger than hers. He pressed as his entrance, felt the wetness that rested there, the natural lubricants. Was Lesedi wet? Did humans react to sexual stimulation in similar ways? Did they experience pleasure differently? How different was her sex from his? How would she react to his touches upon her?

Fook, too many questions.

He couldn't even _focus _on what he was trying to do with so many damn questions, so many rushing and foolish thoughts. He shut down on them sharply, like a dam slamming upon a rapid river, ceasing all flow. Everything stopped as he mimicked the woman, curling a thick digit into his female sex, his hips giving a firm buck to his hand and he ground sharp teeth, the tentacles over his mouth twisting fretfully that things were moving so slow, so maddeningly slow. He'd _never _taken such time. Lesedi was still lost in simply experiencing, brushing her fingers, taunting her entrance. An arm had hooked over her head and her back was arching, causing her breasts to press up against the ugly shirt. His free hand twitched, as if to reach out and tear it, to see what lay beneath has he the other night, but she was well across the room from him.

Oliver pressed his brow against the windowsill, ignoring the clack it made, and she didn't seem to hear this time either. Her hips were beginning to gyrate faster and his followed, working with the motions. Another finger slipped into Lesedi's wet depths and she bit her lower lip and squirmed, her small toes curling in her pleasure. Oliver pulled his hand from his female sex and gripped his length firmly, giving it long and fluid strokes, twisting his hand with the motions and the woman gave a whimper which he responded to in a series of low, lewd clicks.

"Fookin' more," he breathed and the girl's hand was thrusting faster between her legs, her thumb making a circular motion on something he couldn't see, but it seemed to cause the woman only more bliss and her legs spread wider. Her calves flexed as she pleasured herself, a sharp line showing up in the muscle as she did and her hips gave firm, pulsing thrusts upward into her teasing, dipping fingers. Oliver squeezed against the base of his sex, felt the burning, boiling pleasure of release rising and he took a deep breath, her heady arousal a finer, richer aroma than he'd ever imagined. Fook, all he would have to do would be to just crawl right through the window and pin the girl down, take her quick and hard, just the way she wanted.

"Right, fook. More girl, more." He encouraged in a low churr.

If Lesedi heard, she made no indication, except to move faster, her breaths now quick, airy gasps as she panted, and he was panting too, pressing his body firmly against the wall and opening her curtain more to get a better view. He could see all of her now. He didn't have to lean or adjust to catch the small peeks of her and try to imagine them all together. Every inch of her was his for the viewing, his for the _taking _damnit, from her wildly strewn black halo of hair to her gasping mouth to her wiggling hips and her curling toes. Her body trembled and pulsed, a breathing, shuddering, mewling creature of wild abandonment, of pure pleasure.

Fook, if he could only get closer. If he could merely hold her down by those tiny wrists, spread those creamy, white thighs and plow right into her aching sex, fook her good as she screamed and arched up for him, crying out his name wantonly. He could imagine those little nails scratching and clawing uselessly at his exoskeleton, the soft noises they would made on his body. How would she feel pressed against him? How would she feel around him? He could grip her hair and pull her head back, tease at the strange lines and sensitive dip of her throat as she gasped, those quivering, round breasts flush against the firm plates of his chest. He could easily imagine her sweat drenched, shuddering body dominated by his. He could hear her low groans of pleasure, imagine his firm grunts, growls and clicks as he whispered profanities, demands of her.

Fook, just thinking of the soft, untamed body bucking against him, arms wrapped around his thick neck, the precarious balance of too soft and too rough and the sheer _trust _that might exist between the two beings from such a balance.

Fook.

Olive snarled as he came, hot spurts of liquid on his wrist that dribbled down to his thighs. He gave a heavy gasp and pressed his brow to the windowsill again, grinding his thighs together a moment and saw Lesedi was doing the same, writhing in her bed, her fingers thrusting and digging into her wet sex as she writhed her hips shamelessly up and around.

He remained quiet as his muscles began to relax, studying Lesedi as she settled as well, her breathing still short and soft, her eyes glazed and her lips parted as she took in the cool air of evening. After a long moment, she sat up and wiped her hand on her shorts, pulling them back up and redoing the button on them. Oliver pulled up his shorts as well, glancing curiously about him. He let his guard down so much when he was pleasuring himself, and with the noises he surely did make it was amazing he hadn't been spotted yet.

_That _wasn't talent.

_That_ was luck, and he didn't want to abuse it. As Lesedi turned her back to open her closet, Oliver pushed up into a stand and slunk along the side of the house, moving back to the District.


	3. Chapter 3

_Hey everyone! Thanks a BUNCH for the reviews! =) Here would be the next chapter._

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"You came home late again last night," Wikus stated, his tone smug, and Oliver shot him a filthy look over the pile of garbage he was sorting through. Last night was the third time he'd made a random and unscheduled visit to Lesedi's. This dangerous game of spying on her had been going on for about a month now, which, Oliver believed, was about a month too long to have an obsession with anything, especially a human. He looked toward the side, hoping his other father didn't hear. He knew Christopher worried for him, and was well aware that Oliver occasionally stayed out very late, but at the same time, he didn't want his father to even guess that he wasn't really out scavenging the dumps in the District. He didn't want his father to worry any more than he had too. Fook, Christopher already had too much on his mind, last thing he needed was news that his only son was wandering around outside the District past curfew.

The elder Poleepkwa was further along from them, contemplating a beaten up computer tower that claimed a few holes in it and was a filthy shade of brown.

"So?" Oliver scowled, flicking his gaze back to Wikus.

"So? Not that it's a _big _deal except you tend to come home late on _Sunday _nights and the occasional _Tuesday _night, but really, it's only ever been one night a week that you stay out very late, and you always return with food, but here's the curious part, and now stay focused…" The hybrid was enjoying himself too much, in Oliver's humble opinion. "You didn't bring any food home last night! Which either means you didn't find anything, and that's just unlikely because, let's face it, even _I _can scrounge up some food around here, _or _you were doing something _other _than getting food and I can guarantee you that there aren't any toga parties in the District to be going to on a Friday night. So!"

"Whatever you're trying to get at, just stop it," Oliver snipped, beginning to find a good deal of interest in a crushed soda can. What the fook was a toga party anyway? More curiously: what the fook was a toga?

Wikus didn't stop it. He gave a big, brazen stretch. The hybrid's eyes were bright from his good natured teasing. Oliver glanced at him. Wikus made a fine Prawn. The man originally took a good deal of offense at such a compliment, especially when the metamorphosis was about complete, but after a few years to accept his body and Christopher's love, he now tended to smirk and nod his head with a playful little 'I'd have to say I give your species a fookin' good name,' in response.

"Sooooo," Wikus drawled, ignoring Oliver's blunt little order to cease and desist with his antics. "Who is she?"

"_She_?" Oliver froze, snapping a pencil he'd been placing off to the side for the few belongings he'd like to take home. Mostly they were out scrounging in the dump to find parts for the home or the ship, but occasionally he found a little thing here or there that was worth keeping, very occasionally.

"Or he. Sorry, force of habit. Whatever. It really doesn't matter either way, you know. I mean, look at your father and I," he chuckled, tilting his head and studying his son. Oliver fidgeted with the snapped pencil, trying to awkwardly put the two pieces back together. "I mean, that's where you've been, isn't it? With someone? It's why you're even pissier today than you were a few days ago."

"I'm not pissy."

"You're exceptionally pissy."

"I'm _not _pissy."

"On a Pissy Scale of one to ten, you're about a sixty."

"I. Am not. Pissy."

"Your father and I were lying on our mat last night and he actually told me 'Wikus, you sexy, fookin' animal you, our son is _really _pissy recently.'"

Oliver snorted with laughter at the words and ducked his head to try and hide it. Simply imagining his father saying such a thing was ridiculous. In the distance Christopher popped his head up curiously, glancing over to them. Wikus offered a friendly little wave while Oliver stifled his laughs. The elder Prawn gave them a suspicious glance, and then returned to his work, shaking his head and muttering, probably about how ironic it was that he was living with two juveniles, one more so than the other. Wikus chuckled and looked back to Oliver as the youth calmed himself.

"Seriously though, what's going on? I know hormones are rough, but really now, things are just getting ridiculous."

"I _might _be interested in someone," Oliver shrugged, and then shook his head. "But it's a big might. I barely know them and most likely, they wouldn't be interested in me." He rolled his eyes back some. "I can't even believe I might consider it. I have no need for a mate right now."

"So? Nothing wrong with a little fun. Go on a date."

"A date?" Oliver blinked.

"It's when two humans go out to dinner and a movie. They talk, get to know each other, occasionally make out. If this mystery sweetheart of yours puts out everything on the first date though, I'd forget it. It means they probably put out to _everyone_. And you know the rule: when you have sex with someone you're having sex with _every _person they've ever been with."

Oliver laughed again, finally giving up on the pencil and tossing it dismissively to the side. Wikus' idea was charming, but entirely unlikely, and he knew the man was joking anyway. If most Poleepkwa were already so uninterested in romance it was highly unlikely they'd ever be interested in something as simple as a date, a mere chance to get to know one and other. It wasn't necessary to like the personality of your mate, you just needed someone that could help provide.

Besides, there was too much between he and Lesedi for him to _ever _consider really being in a relationship with her. He barely knew the girl, she already seemed more or less enamored with her badly smelling male, she was human, and to be perfectly frank: she wasn't at all attractive to him. He thought. Actually, he really wasn't sure. If she wasn't attractive, he wouldn't continually think about her, he wouldn't actually seek her out as he'd begun to do. What's more, he probably wouldn't fantasize about her as he did. No, there were a few things about her he was certain he liked, begrudgingly. There was her scent. She had pretty hair for a human. She had a vibrant smile, no matter how weird her mouth looked being exposed as it was, or the white, flat teeth.

Yet, fact remained, she was flawed. How could he ever consider a relationship with someone so flawed?

Fook, he shouldn't even be contemplating it! She was fookin' human. End of story.

"Are you planning to go out again tonight?" Wikus asked, looking toward him curiously. Oliver shrugged, heaving a sigh, and his father chuckled at the gesture, shaking his head. "Do you and this mystery person even talk much?"

"Not really. It's more of an admiring-from-afar sort of situation."

Afar, meaning about ten feet, at the most.

Admiring, meaning masturbating in secret to the sight of her.

Real romantic.

Fook. A whole month of this too. A whole month of lewd voyeurism on his part. A whole month of sitting outside her window when she went to bed, usually around one in the morning after a good bit of reading on her part, though if it was pleasure reading or textbook reading, he couldn't tell. The girl was home on some sort of break from college, but would be going back very soon. It might be for the better she was away from him, back at her college, even if it was in the area. He didn't know where she was in the dorms of the college and he hoped he never found out. Things were getting so close, so convoluted and mixed up. He was worried that perhaps Lesedi was getting suspicious that something was going on too, perhaps sensing the presence outside of her window. Last night when he'd arrived, the window had been shut, a first for them.

"You should talk to whoever it is," Wikus said, drawing Oliver sharply out of his thoughts. He looked toward his father, the hybrid contemplating a scratched CD. "We could probably get this to work. It's not in that bad of shape."

"What is it?"

"Classical by the looks. Bloody awful stuff I think, but Christopher would probably like it. You too, come to think of it."

"I don't know if I really want to talk to them," Oliver admitted, changing the topic back to himself, but Wikus flowed smoothly with it, as if bringing up the CD were simply part of the plan to get Oliver to open up. It was possible, in some twisted, reverse psychological way. Wikus was occasionally smarter than he let on.

"Why not?"

"Because I don't know if I want a mate anyway."

"It's not about mating Oliver, it's about enjoying yourself while you're young," Wikus sighed, his clicks comforting, but hinting at their own frustration now. Oliver frowned up at him slightly, his brow creased in confusion. "Fook, Oliver, I know it's all strange sounding, maybe I shouldn't be pushing human ideas onto you, but you're fookin' miserable boy. Chris and I see it every fookin' day. You're tearin' yourself apart over something and I think this mating bullshit is the source."

"I'm not human. I'm Poleepkwa," Oliver informed bluntly.

"Right, but not all human things are bad for your kind, _our _kind."

The sentiment touched him, but he tried not to show it, looking moodily down to his lap once more. He didn't know how to explain his problem. He felt above such barbaric, thoughtless behavior. He wanted to be like his father, and yet his father had been rather unhappy until he'd met and developed a relationship with Wikus, a human, at the time.

Maybe the fact he knew he was considering pursuing Lesedi was what was giving him the trouble. She was human. It was frightfully taboo. Fookin' a human was fine, but actually creating some sort of bond, actually taking that human as a permanent mate? Laughable. Christopher would've been mocked out of the District had he declared Wikus his mate when Wikus was still human. What's more, thus far he hadn't even gotten to _know _the girl except the occasional tidbit of information he received before she went off to sleep at night. Everything he knew of her was formed from images in his mind, fantasies. For all he knew, she was probably a real bitch, a real, unpleasant wretch of a female. He wanted a relationship with a human, yet he knew _nothing _about her and in the meantime of _maybe _one day learning, he was just being a voyeur, a pervert, giving in to his lusts while occasionally she did the same and drove him mad with the sights and sounds and smells of her.

"I'm a fookin' mess," Oliver muttered and Wikus shook his head.

"No. You're not. You're young. You're confused. It happens."

"I just…" Oliver shook his head, feeling ashamed at himself. "I shouldn't _be _like this. I'm _smart_. I'm _intelligent_. Why am I so confused? Why am I having so much trouble?"

"Because you're a _kid_."

Oliver jerked his head up, frowning weakly. Wikus reached out, setting a clawed hand on his shoulder, looking kindly up at his son. Oliver wanted to say something, but wasn't sure what. A kid? He _was _still a kid. Wikus told him before his experiences were very similar to human puberty. He was growing, supposed to be reaching adulthood soon enough, true adulthood, and yet he'd always thought himself mentally an adult already. It was his body that needed to catch up.

"I just need a break from all of this mess," Oliver sighed and Wikus smirked, tilting his head.

"I heard old Mosola's looking for help at the convenience store."

---

Oliver knew Mosola always liked him, which made convincing the man to hire him as a part time worker at the convenience store he owned all the easier. The convenience store was small and a little dirty, the air conditioning had a small tendency to go on the fritz and the heater _never _worked, but it was located in an all right neighborhood, there was rarely any trouble, and the locals had long ago accepted the fact Mosola liked hiring Poleepkwa rather than humans. When asked why, Mosola had merely replied that Poleepkwa were hard workers, didn't give him any lip and that, compared to human teenagers, he rarely caught them lazing around on the clock or trying to steal. The last part was a little skeptical, but Mosola was a firm believer that simply giving Prawns responsibilities helped to let their good nature shine through, and helped to show the rest of the city of Johannesburg that Prawns were not violent, dumb animals.

Oliver found the work menial, but it kept his mind off of Lesedi during most days and it got him out of the District. What's more, the money wasn't at all bad, compared to what other part-time Poleepkwa workers were getting.

Oliver looked around the convenience store. It was a healthy size, filled mostly with food and beverages, but there was an aisle with arts and crafts and a few cheap toys that the children liked very much to play with. Mosola worked the counter, since most of the humans still weren't comfortable with the idea of Prawns dealing with their money. It was well enough, at least this way Oliver didn't have to actually talk to any of them, except ask the occasional confused looking shopper if they needed any help finding something. He kept the store clean and restocked the supplies.

It was funny, the humans were uneasy with the Poleepkwa touching their money, but they bought food supplies, vegetables and fruits even, things they put _inside _their bodies, that the Poleepkwa had touched as well.

There was a slightly older Prawn, Gregory, working the same shift as him today. Greg was of an impressive build and, blissfully, already mated to another. He was silent, but surprisingly sharp at times, always making light and interesting comments about the customers that entered. Whether the comments were kind or crude was always up for debate, but they were usually insightful. Greg had been working for Mosola long enough to know when a customer was going to be troublesome and rude, pleasant, or neutral. It was usually Greg's opinion of the matter that determined whether or not he and Oliver wandered in the back to get some more supplies, or continued their work in the front of the store.

Oliver liked Greg. They worked well in companionable silence and only occasionally had to really say much to each other. If Oliver _was _in a chatty mood, Greg never had any qualms about listening. What's more, Greg was better with the customers, so when they shared a shift Oliver usually let the elder Poleepkwa deal with the shoppers, something that hadn't slipped by Greg's notice, and something he didn't necessarily approve of. Not that he minded dealing with the people, he just found it bad work ethics on Oliver's part, and felt the younger Prawn to be better than that.

Either way, Oliver enjoyed working with the Prawn, and found himself disliking times when they weren't together.

Today was one of those days. Greg had arrived late, due to some troubles with MNU agents wanting to search his house on bogus charges. They hadn't found anything, not to anyone's surprise. The only real crime was the delay Greg had faced. It would've been the one day Greg was a little behind Oliver decided to ask an older woman if she needed help reaching something. The lady had screamed and then gone on a tangent about damn Prawns always sneaking up trying to scare the life out of an old woman. She'd made a real scene, and Oliver felt embarrassed for not only for himself, but Mosola, who put his own reputation on the line for the Poleepkwa. Not that the lady sounded necessarily like a credible with her shrieking and fussing, but she was still causing too much of a fuss than necessary, one that drew too much awkward attention.

Oliver figured her death wouldn't be _nearly _the tragedy she was wailing about.

"I don't get it," he mused to Greg, later in the afternoon. "_How _can you tell what kind of customer they're going to be?"

"It's the way they carry themselves. Body language says it all for humans, they barely realize most of the time that they're an open book. I could probably tell you a human's life story, if you give me an hour to watch them," Greg responded in his usual, soft clicks and growls.

"Give me an example," Oliver huffed and Greg chuckled, adjusting into a stand from the box of candy bars he'd been setting up on the shelves. He looked about the store, spotting a pretty young woman with tired eyes. She was holding the hand of a little boy and quietly looking through the milk to see which one's out of date stamp was the furthest away from the present time. She was dressed for the cool weather, and her boy bundled up more than was probably necessary.

"See her posture? She's totally at ease in this place, comfortable enough to bring her kid here. She doesn't mind Poleepkwa."

"This could've been her last resort store."

"With all the things she's buying? She's not in a hurry."

"Doesn't mean she's okay with our kind," Oliver snorted, rolling his eyes. Greg smirked and held up a finger, glancing toward the woman, then back at Oliver.

"I'll make you a deal. I'll go up and talk to her. If she gets upset, I'll mop the floors tonight. But if she _doesn't _get upset, _you _ask the next customer in this store if they need help."

"You're joking."

"I'm not joking. It'll build character," Greg smirked and then held out his hand, watching Oliver patiently. The youth gave a sigh and nodded. Worse thing that would happen would be he'd get a rude customer. Best thing that would happen: the customer wouldn't need any help. Greg gave his hand a firm shake and then turned and walked up to the woman, his voice a series of polite and charming clicks as he asked her if she needed any help. A warm smile touched her face, and Oliver rolled his eyes.

"Oh no, I'm just looking for the freshest bottle."

"I can check in the back, if you like," Greg smiled, pointing toward the double doors that led into the back docking areas. "We got in a shipment this morning."

"That would be wonderful, Gregory, thank you!"

"Thank youuu!" the little boy perked up, bouncing and waving up at Gregory. "Hello!"

"Hello, Shepherd," Greg smiled and reached out, very carefully patting the small boy's head, mindful not to hurt the child on accident. Too rough a pat could very well cave in a small child's skull. Greg turned and moved back for the doors, giving Oliver a knowing and very smug expression. Oliver twitched slightly, glowering at the elder Prawn as he passed him to head for the back of the store.

"You know her," Oliver accused and Greg raised his hands in defeat, chuckling.

"I know her."

Oliver muttered a curse, glancing toward the doors. Next customer, fook. He hated dealing with customers. Like his father, he'd never felt necessarily comfortable in the public eye, especially considering the fact the very thing his family now worked on was probably quite illegal. If MNU ever found out, they would have a field day. They weren't necessarily introverted, but they certainly weren't the most extroverted of Poleepkwa either. He trudged toward the front of the store, straightening the shelves on the aisle nearest the door, waiting for the charming tinkle of the bells that alerted them to customers. Mosola was playing some music on the radio, but it was coming out mostly static. It was cooler near the front of the store, with the windows slightly cracked to let in the chilled breeze of summer. The older man was reading the newspaper silently, a cigarette resting in his mouth but it wasn't lit. The man had long ago given up smoking, but the habit of simply having something to do with his hands, with his mouth, was still hard to break, and he hadn't bothered to try.

Oliver glanced to the door when it opened with a charming song of bells, feeling the first budding clicks of greeting in his mouth, when he froze, the warm, shuddering smell of patchouli taunting him already.

Fook.

That was just his luck.

Lesedi walked through the front door, dressed in a nice sweater that actually flattered her figure and a pair of form fitting jeans, something Oliver saw so rarely on the girl, yet he usually caught her during the night when she was in sleeping clothes. In fact, he could safely say he'd never seen her during the day. And yet, here she was, at the one place he'd gone in hopes of escaping her and avoiding thinking of her for most of his days. He still took his trip to her house on Sundays, yet he'd begun to avoid the unnecessary trips on Fridays or other days of the week for that matter. It was like restraining a bad habit. Here she was though! He'd been working at this store for three weeks and hadn't seen this girl once, and conveniently she showed up on a lost bet.

Fook.

Her male, David, walked in close behind her, following by a short black male and wispy white female that stood over the dark youth by a few inches. The four glanced toward him, Lesedi and the black male offering smiles in greeting, while David merely nodded and the other female kept her gaze forward. Greg was right: he could already tell which were going to be pleasant and which weren't. Oliver shuffled, glancing toward the back of the store, hoping Greg hadn't yet returned and couldn't expect it of him to help the newcomers, but sure enough the elder Prawn was there, handing the female with the small child, Shepherd, a jug of milk and giving Oliver a pointed look.

Slowly, Oliver turned and looked back to the four, walking slowly forward, each step unbearable slow and far in his mind. If only they could just turn around and leave, just decide that they didn't really need anything and it was a fluke they'd walked into the store at all. Lesedi's back was turned to him, and the sight of her in sunlight was fascinating, strange. Her hair was brilliantly highlighted in the false light of the store, looking soft, a vibrant mass of dark curls. They were down and coiled about white flesh. Oliver moved slowly closer, until the scent of David became uncomfortably potent and he stopped a few feet from the group.

The black male sensed him first and turned to look up at him with open curiosity and a pleasant smile. The others followed, with varying degrees of excitement. Lesedi looked just as welcoming, while David's expression was less than thrilled, even disgusted, along with the pale female. Oliver took a deep breath, and then ventured forward with the question.

"Can I help you find anything?"

"Sorry, didn't quite catch that," David smiled, leaning forward. Lesedi blinked and shot the male a filthy look, her eyes narrowing. "Could you try speaking outside of a bunch of clicks and grunts?" The pale female giggled, biting down on her lower lip, and Lesedi scowled more, hitting David firmly in the side with her elbow. He cringed at the gesture, rubbing sorely at the spot.

"Shut up, David," Lesedi snapped, and then looked up toward him, placing a warm smile on her face. This close, he finally saw there were a few freckles dotting her face, especially over her nose, and her eyelashes were thick and as black as her hair and eyebrows. A few of them were curling in the wrong direction, and unlike the pale female, lacked in sticky makeup. He did notice dark ink beneath her bottom eyelashes, eyeliner. Human females were strangely partial to such bizarre things like makeup. "Actually, we're looking for some markers and poster board. Do you carry any?"

"Aisle 5," Oliver nodded. David rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. The black male grinned playfully, poking Lesedi in the side.

"We didn't need to ask for where it was. They're right over yonder."

"Ah, Mndeni, just like you men, never want to ask for directions do you?" Lesedi teased good-naturedly and Mndeni laughed.

"Listen to that Prawn, you going to let her talk about our gender like that?" David asked, then paused and smirked meanly. "Oh that's right, I forgot. You itty-bits aren't all male, are they?"

"David, shut the hell up," Lesedi gasped, her face flushing brightly with shock at his words and probably embarrassment her male said them at all.

"Low blow man," Mndeni frowned, wrinkling his nose in disapproval. "Seriously, how about you wander that-a-way and go look at colognes?"

"Oh for fuck's sake, it's _just _a Prawn."

"If you're interested, we have a sale going. Based on your present scent, you might like it," Oliver intoned gently, tilting his head as politely as he could. The humans looked up at him curiously and he paused a moment, then smiled as kindly as he could. "It's called Eau de Pompous."

Lesedi's lips parted into a smile and she bit down on her lower lip firmly, turning as if to regard something and coughing out a laugh. David's face pinched up and red blotches appeared on his cheeks. Oliver took a slight step back, certain he'd crossed a boundary, and it was obvious as David pushed forward, lips pulled back in a snarl to expose white, flat teeth.

"You got a fucking problem _Prawn_?" he snapped, poking Oliver sharply in the chest. Before Oliver could respond with another snide comment, or more likely a meek one to avoid confrontation, Mndeni put himself between the two, pushing back on David while Lesedi frowned up at him disapprovingly.

"Stop it, man!" Mndeni ordered, pointing toward the back of the store. "Why don't you just wait the hell outside? We'll get what we need." David opened his mouth to argue, but Lesedi beat him to it silently, pointing angrily at the door. He pinched his face up again, before giving in to his female's demands, turning and stalking angrily for the front door, the tall, pale female following after him. As he reached the end of the aisle he raised his arm, knocking cans off of a shelf. They fell with a loud clatter and a few of them burst, spraying tomato juice on the white floor. Oliver sighed slightly, but was relieved to see David go. He moved forward to pick up the cans, surprised when Lesedi and Mndeni bent down and started doing the same.

"Here, we'll get that," Lesedi soothed, piling a few of them into the crook arm. This close to her and without David around, Oliver could smell her fine, and it was intoxicating. Her hair fell over her shoulders in a dark curtain, tickling over her cheeks, her chin, her neck, her breasts. He tried to pull his eyes away, but the simple fact he'd never been _this _close to her before. Fook, it was like torture. Lesedi continued, peering up at him shyly and he quickly averted his gaze from her body. "I'm sorry about him, he's an asshole sometimes."

"Sometimes?" Mndeni smirked, raising a dark eyebrow. "Try _all _the time."

"I have had pleasanter customers," Oliver muttered. He hesitated, and then glanced shyly toward Lesedi once more. "I haven't seen you here before."

"Oh, I usually drop in on Sundays."

That figured. Sundays he took off to spy on her.

"It's the only place I do my shopping at."

"Mr. Mosola is the only man around here that allows Poleepkwa to work _and _shop at his store. So our tolerance group is boycotting all the other ones," Mndeni explained as he placed some of the cans onto the shelf.

"You're in a tolerance group?" Oliver asked, trying to make the question multidirectional, but focusing on Lesedi as he did so. He knew she was, but she didn't know that he knew she was, at least, as far as he knew. The girl nodded her head though. "And you are in a relationship with someone that does not hold your same values?" She paused at this question, looking up at him, a vibrant blush finding its way onto her cheeks that looked, surprisingly nice, compared to silly as it did on most humans. Oliver found it so very funny that blood rushed into human faces so easily, and most any emotion they felt could cause it, from embarrassment to anger to joy.

"Well… I…"

"He got you there, Lesi," Mndeni smirked, tilting his head to look up at Oliver. He paused in picking up cans, talking with his hands and gesturing to Lesedi as he spoke. "See? I've been telling her the same thing. Drop the chump. First it's: oh no, I couldn't possibly. He's such a sweet guy! Who else would date me anyway?" The male took on a falsetto tone at the words, clasping his hands together and pressing them against his chest. "And then it's: Oh, but maybe he'll change! He just needs to get to know them better! And now it's…" Mndeni looked toward her expectantly. Lesedi's lips were twisted into an amused grin and her brows raised high.

"Now it's: gee, I'm starting to wonder the same thing," she said wryly, rolling her eyes and picking up the last can, returning it to the shelf. Oliver stood with them, smirking slightly at the idea of her ditching the foul smelling human. She turned her head, smiling up at him. "Anywho, art supplies?"

"This way." He sidestepped the mess on the floor, figure he would get it later, or Greg would. Either or, neither of them much cared. He showed the humans to the smell section of art supplies, Lesedi grabbing some cheap paints and markers while Mndeni picked out poster boards. "What are these all for, if I may ask?"

To say he was surprised at how easily they were conversing would've been the greatest understatement in Oliver's life. It was coming so naturally, almost too naturally. Perhaps this was all a dream, a wild and fantastic dream. If he reached out and just _touched _her, it would be complete. Or maybe he didn't need to stop at just touching, perhaps he could pursue it, see just how far this dream, or perfect reality, would let him go.

"We're having a food drive, for the Poleepkwa," Lesedi said. "A few of the local churches are letting us set up donation boxes, so hopefully we'll get some good stuff."

"That's very kind," Oliver murmured, fixing the young woman with a warm gaze. He watched a minute flush touch her cheeks and could imagine her heart beating faster. Her scent grew heady and warm and she meekly turned back to the shelves, grabbing a few more boxes of markers. Was that…arousal on her? Had the look actually caused the _slightest _of reactions from the woman? "Would you like help distributing the food?"

"Actually, we could use a spare set of hands," Mndeni brightened from his position kneeling by the posters, glancing up at him. Lesedi nipped her lower lip and nodded her head in response, grinning very timidly up at him.

"I'd be happy to help," Oliver informed smoothly. "My fathers would also."

"Sure!" Lesedi turned to face him again and he watched her posture open up to him, her shoulders pressing back and her face losing its veil of shyness. "We'll be having it in late July, after we've collected a few more non-perishables. I-I'll give Mosola the exact date and time when we figure it out, and he can give it to you."

"It sounds like fun."

"It really is! Most of the Poleepkwa are really friendly and we always have a good time just getting to know the community of the District better."

"As long as Adam doesn't show up," Mndeni stated, rising into a stand and setting a hand on his hip, the other holding a few posters of various colors. "He did last time, lucky you weren't there for it. Harassed a bunch of us."

"Adam?" Oliver tilted his head curiously, but already had a feeling of who they were talking about. Still, he could hope perhaps it was a human that was giving them trouble, and not one of his own.

"A Poleepkwa," Mndeni informed. Ah well, so much for hope. "He's one of the smarter ones. Christ, that sounds mean for the rest of them."

"It's true though," Oliver shrugged. "Most get by on simplicity. It's not a bad thing." And it wasn't, he supposed. They weren't stupid, just simpler. They didn't mull escape plans like his fathers did and they didn't contemplate how to get back at the humans, like Adam did. They just lived life the way the cards were dealt to them, rolling with the punches. Greg was that way. He wasn't a stupid Prawn, rather intelligent in his own, deeply intuitive way, but he couldn't rattle of laws or facts like Christopher could and he certainly wasn't a schemer. He was just Greg.

"In any case, Adam's a real bastard, for _any _species," Mndeni declared with a roll of his eyes.

"Maybe we can get a few guards to look out for him," Lesedi joked, rolling her eyes. She looked back to Oliver, her expression a warm smile that left his heart fluttering and his knees feeling unusually weak. He adjusted his weight, suddenly wishing he was wearing nicer clothes other than the threadbare shorts and the few wrappings around his arms, legs and feet. "Anyway, the two outside are waiting. I— we'll, see you later…"

"Oliver," he smiled, hesitating before he held out his hand. She paused, and then a tiny coy smile curled onto her lips and she balanced the markers and paints in one arm, reaching out and catching his hand.

"Lesedi."

"It's a pleasure to meet you."

It was shocking how small her hand was compared to his, and as they shook he studied the difference. It was so fragile, so small. He felt he could break her by simply _looking _at her hard. No wonder David was so hesitant of roughing it up with her. Oliver would be hesitant too. Would he ever be willing to try it, all for the sake of pleasuring her? He frowned slightly, considering this girl, her small, daring little stature, her hesitant boldness. Yes, he supposed he would. If it meant pleasing her, he could try, and he damn well knew he'd enjoy it himself, simple nature _demanded _he enjoy it. He turned his eyes from their hands, studying her face. It was still shyly open to him, her lips set into a meek half smile and her eyes brimming with some strange emotion he didn't dare place as interest.

"You guys can let go now," Mndeni snickered and the two blinked, and blushed, pulling their hands back sharply. Lesedi gave a nervous laugh and awkwardly fumbled with the markers and paints, returning them to both arms. Oliver rubbed at his shoulder, antennae flattening against his skull as he ducked his head.

He watched as the two humans went to counter and paid for the supplies, Lesedi passing him a small wave out the door as she went, her expression still of that uncertain curiosity. He had interested her, somehow, and he wouldn't dare let it pass. Fook, he'd just _met _the girl he'd been obsessing over for over a month now. Met her, talked to her, _and touched _her. She'd been close enough to easily embrace. Oliver felt Greg walk up behind him and pause, the elder Prawn thoughtfully crossing his arms and watching the humans go, before he pointed toward Lesedi.

"She's open to experience."

"Shut up," Oliver muttered, grinning toward Greg.


	4. Chapter 4

_Hey everyone! I know it's been forever but I got the wild urge to add more to this one. Bit of a time jump, but hopefully it's easily to figure out where it's all at. Thank you so much for the reviews while I was away from this and I hope you all enjoy =)_

Oliver followed Lesedi with his eyes. She was handing canned food to a couple of Poleepkwa youths, the two chattering to her excitedly about how hungry they were and trying to weasel more food from her. Never once did a word of thanks leave their mouths, but she didn't seem to notice, let alone care. She let them chatter to her, patient and sweet tempered, as he was discovering her to be. She didn't let them connive more food out of her, each Poleepkwa was to receive one can and no more, that way there'd be enough for hopefully most. They didn't much seem to notice though as she began to ask them about other things, taking their mind off food, and soon they were rambling to her about their favorite games, forgetting in the warmth of her their desire for more food.

Oliver blinked when his Wikus nudged him, looking to the side and flinching at the wide grin on his father's face.

"That her?"

"What? Her who? I don't know what you're talking about," Oliver snapped, jerking his head to look straight forward and thrusting the case of food into the next hungry visitor's chest. The prawn across from him growled at the rough treatment and snatched the catch of food from his hand, stalking away and muttering about rude, arrogant brats. Oliver ground his teeth, his hand tightening around the next can he grabbed from one of many boxes on the table.

"Her, the girl you've been admiring from afar for nearly two months now," Wikus clarified cheerfully, nodding when a prawn finally did offer up a thanks for the free food. Oliver shook his head.

Had it really been two months since he'd first seen Lesedi? He supposed it had. His first month had been filled with spying on her from her window and masturbating furtively in secret. Ever since the night he'd found her window closed though, he'd been unable to enjoy such activities. He'd figured that might be the end of it. She lived in such a high end district, an upper class neighborhood, and she did go to college after all. Fate clearly had other ideas though. Not a few days later he'd seen her in Mosola's shop, within touching distance of him and to be unable to do anything more than awkwardly make her acquaintance for the first time. That had been as agonizing as anything else.

They'd made quick and unsure friends though. She'd given him the information on the food drive her tolerance group was planning, and then readily accepted his help when he offered to assist her in planning it and spreading the word around the District. Afternoons once filled with monotony and anxiety of his hormones had instead been spent on street corners spreading the concept of tolerance and friendship between Poleepkwa and humans. Evenings had been spent at Mndeni's small apartment with delicious food and good company. Things had been like a dream. He still wondered at times if they were a dream.

But oh, if they were, they were torturous ones. To be in such close contact with his object of carnal desire and be unable to readily touch and explore. To see her frustrations with her boyfriend increase to her being near tears, and then the next day watch those worries be washed from her face like dirt with a rough rag as she smiled and chirped about whatever stupid thing he'd done to make their previous fight appear like nothing more than a humble dispute. It was agonizing, it was unfair.

"No," he said finally, emphasizing it with a sharp jerk of his head.

"Mm," Wikus replied, and Oliver couldn't bring myself to look at his father and see the smug disbelief on his face. "She's pretty. Maybe I'll introduce myself."

Introduce, his flamboyant dad's word for flirt shamelessly.

"Father would be jealous."

"It's been a long time since he reminded me who I belong to," Wikus lilted and took a dramatic step toward Lesedi. Oliver grabbed his arm and yanked him back to his side, growling. The sharp motion drew the attention of others around them to the two of them.

"Stop it! Fine! It's her, okay?" he hissed, thrusting a can into another hungry charity case's chest. He glanced to the side, spying Lesedi glancing their way at the hushed commotion, her brows knit with confusion. He passed her an awkward wave and a tiny smile curved on her pink lips. His heart lurched into his throat and his sex suddenly felt uncomfortably hard and restrained in its protective shell. Wikus gave a low and amused churr.

"Wow, so you _do _have it pretty bad for her, don't you? No surprise. She's quite lovely."

"I feel like an idiot," Oliver growled, shaking his head. "This is fookin' ridiculous."

"Now, now," Wikus soothed, reaching up and patting his back. "It's your first crush, of _course _you're going to feel a bit silly."

"I feel more than silly," he grumbled.

He felt helpless, he felt trapped, he felt like an animal and a pervert with the thoughts he still had about her, the way they randomly entered his head and overtook his mind. Worse, it was more than lustful fantasies anymore. They'd started to become somehow more than sex and rough domination. There was something gentle creeping up between his daydreams of holding her down and listening to her gasping pleas for more. He imagined dinners alone with her, without Mndeni and her other tolerance friends about. He imagined brushing her hair back from her face, taking the time to count every freckle that dotted across her cheeks and nose, watching her sleep and holding her to his chest, feeling the rhythmic rise and fall of her body against his. He wanted to take the time to compare her hand against his and study the curve and dip of her fragile spine.

"Hey, Oliver."

He jumped at the voice, turning and forcing himself to stay put when he saw Lesedi standing at his side, her eyes wide and filled with curiosity and friendly warmth.

"Hey," he said, mouth feeling as though it'd been stuffed with dirt.

"Is this a friend of yours?"

"My father."

"Hi, I'm Lesedi," she introduced, offering Wikus her hand and smiling up at his father. The older male gave her a charming grin, his mismatched eyes lighting up with curiosity for the girl his son had taken such an avid interest in. He accepted her hand and shook it, mindful to be careful with her.

"Pleasure! You know, Christopher and I have been wondering where he's been spending most of his afternoons and evenings. _So _relieved to know he's not getting mixed up in gangs and world domination."

"Hardly," Lesedi laughed, shooting Oliver a playful and wry grin. "Though world domination is a possibility, he's really quite brilliant."

Oliver tried to resist a blush, keeping his antennae's upright and tilting his chin with defiance, crossing his arms. Thank all that was mighty he had an exoskeleton to hide any possibility of a flush forming on his skin. He forced himself to focus when he realized Lesedi was speaking to him again, the girl reaching out and touching his arm, the slightest brushed of her fingertips shooting a jolt of electricity up to his shoulder.

"—going to get some lunch, you want to come with?" she asked. He nodded dumbly, glancing toward Wikus.

"You don't mind, do you?" he asked. Wikus grinned only more, holding up his hands.

"Oh no, not at all. You two go enjoy yourselves."

He shot the man a glare and followed Lesedi away from the charity event, rubbing at his upper arm where she'd touched him. He glanced down at her, surprised when no one else followed them and he realized they were quite alone, and perhaps going to stay that way.

"So just you and me?" he asked, his clicks very hushed, not daring to be louder for fear of breaking the possibility he might finally have moments with her and no one else. She nodded and he exhaled in a rush, his heart beginning to race. "I'm sorry about my father. He's kind of embarrassing. More ostentatious than most of our kind."

"It must be why your other father likes him so much," she supplied with a tiny smile, peeking up at him. "Christopher right? I've met him once or twice before during other charity events."

Christopher had met her before? They'd met and his father had never once mentioned it or thought to introduce them? He felt a flash of righteous anger, and then brushed it down. Of course his father wouldn't, not with how often Oliver went on about his lack of interest in making friends, let alone finding his own mate. And why would Christopher think he'd want to meet a human anyway?

"Yeah, Christopher."

"He's a really impressive example of a Poleepkwa, if you don't mind me saying," she added, blushing. Oliver blinked down at her, a wave of jealousy overtaking him. His father was impressive? And what was with that look? Did his father do something for her that he himself did not? He was taller than his father, younger, maybe not stronger yet but one day surely. Perhaps he wasn't quite as intelligent either, but his father has many more years experience to his name than Oliver did. But one day no doubt he'd be able to match his father, and one day it'd be his duty the way it was his father's to lead this ragtag bunch of workers, try and get them home if his father had not yet succeeded. He had leader in his blood! He had dominance and power exuding from him as much as his father did. Damn it all…

"Yeah," he muttered, looking away from her and scowling down at the ground. He felt her gaze on the side of his face but refused to look at her, angry despite himself. He stopped walking when she touched his arm again, the young human turning to face him fully, slipping her hands into her pockets.

"Oliver, uhm…"

He peeked up at her when she paused, surprised at the confusion on her face, the discomfort. She glanced up at him from beneath dark lashes, and he softened himself to her, unable to stay mad for long, especially when such a lost look held her face.

"What is it?"

"N-nothing," she said, shaking her head and blushing. Whatever she'd been planning to say she quickly put away. He wanted to pursue it, find out what had made her look so uncertain before, but he resisted, trying to lighten his mood to match hers. "What do you want to eat? My treat. We can have anything."

"But we can't go _any_where," he reminded with a hint of a smirk, well aware of the restrictions most restaurants had on his kind.

"Then I'll get it to-go," she countered, raising her brow up at him. "Come on. You can have _anything _you want. You've worked so hard on this charity, you deserve it."

"You've worked really hard too," he mumbled, feeling worse than he had a moment before. Here she was offering to buy him any kind of food he wanted, and yet he couldn't hope to ever provide her with any food she wished for. Her human ways, even the Poleepkwa ways, was for the dominant of the relationship to provide food, the male. Yet here he was unable to provide her with anything more than scraps he'd stolen from her own garbage can.

"Come on, Oliver," she breathed, brows knit. "You just seem really off today, what's wrong? I mean, the food drive is going great, everyone's having a really good time, no trouble from MNU or gangs or anything."

"It's nothing," he sighed, rubbing at the back of his neck. "How about just some burgers. Fast food."

"You're sure? I know you have some high tastes. I can't interest you in anything else?" she purred, the tone of her voice setting him on fire again and he bit down on the offer to eat her instead, not even wanting to imagine what her reaction would be, though he was sure it ranged from horror at the offer to laughing at the cheesiness of it. It didn't put the images out of his mind though, her legs spread and her head tossed back as he tasted the curious and soft depths of her, her thighs gripping the sides of his head as she bucked and tossed beneath him. He pushed the images down, tightening his hands into fists.

Did such fantasies rule her life as well when she looked at him? When he spoke to her?

"I'm sure," he said, tilting his head and moving along the fence for the mid-district, the space where both Poleepkwa and human occupied.

They didn't get far at all before he heard a commotion from behind, one of the charity members chasing after them. He turned, spotting Mndeni racing to them, the youth grabbing hold of his arm.

"There's a group making trouble!" he snapped, and Oliver took chase with him back to the food drive. A group of Poleepkwa were overturning the tables, scattering canned food and donation money everywhere. A few of the charity members were trying to push them back, Wikus included, but the rowdy group was not to be deterred, and Wikus was one of the few Poleepkwa helping with the charity rather than benefiting from it. Oliver hurried forward to the group, Mndeni close behind him. The youth snatched up a box of food from one prawn and it shrieked a bark at him, tearing it away from him and throwing the boy back.

"What the fook is going on?" Oliver snapped, picking Mndeni up from the ground. Mndeni rubbed at a badly scraped elbow, glaring angrily at the Poleepkwa that were kicking aside canned food with enough force to burst most of them open. The Poleepkwa that had been benefitting from the drive hadn't been deterred by the uproar or damage. They picked up the burst scraps from the ground and descended up on the food like a pack of wild dogs, fighting for the pieces of food, their snarls sounding like buzzsaws.

"Fuckin' Adam again," Mndeni snapped.

Oliver followed his gaze to the Poleepkwa in charge, cringing. Adam wasn't hard to miss in a crowd. He towered over most of their kind, broad shouldered and usually large, his exoskeleton a rich grey and covered in bright red and white brandings, mostly threats and antihuman declarations, a myriad of symbols on his arms expressing the number he'd supposedly killed before. He kicked aside a smaller prawn with far more force than necessary and reached for a can of cat food it'd been going for, tearing into the lid with fierce mandibles, mouth tentacles grabbing at the food and pushing it into his waiting maw.

"My god, they're ruining everything," Lesedi gasped, taking a step forward, but Oliver raised his arm to keep her back, moving forward instead toward Adam. He regretted the decision instantly, especially when Adam's dark maroon eyes fell on him, watching him critically. Oliver paused, and then continued onward, unwilling to back down, especially with Lesedi watching him.

"You need to get out of here," Oliver said, as calmly as he could, trying to imitate his father's coolness and dominance. Christopher never had problems scaring Adam off, but then again his father had the obedience of most of their kind and could easily turn them again him. Oliver's attempts at leadership had no effect. Adam barked a laugh that his friends chorused dumbly, tossing the can of cat food up and down, catching it without taking his eyes off of Oliver. He drew forward, his swagger exuding a confidence Oliver lacked. Still, he continued on: "We worked hard for this food drive and we're not going to have it ruined by the likes of you."

"Likes of me?" Adam said, stopping not far from Oliver.

"Oliver, just let it go. It's not worth it. We'll let him have his damage and pick up when he's gone," Wikus murmured, drawing forward and touching his son's arm, shooting Adam a filthy look. The larger prawn grinned, tossing the can to the side.

"Shut it, abomination."

Oliver lurched forward, hands tightened into fists, but Wikus and a few other humans kept him back with great effort. He still struggled to throw a punch or a kick, until he felt feminine arms wrap around his middle and a soft form against his back. He paused, taking a shuddering a deep breath, forcing himself to relax.

"Let it go, Oliver. Your dad's right, it's not worth it," Lesedi soothed, peering up at him. Oliver cringed, and then softened his stance, taking a step back. Adam drew forward in the span of a breath, invading his space, his hands catching Lesedi's wrists and jerking her forward. She grunted, the force of the move slamming her into Oliver's back, trapping her front against him. Oliver was drawn forward into Adam and he cringed to feel the larger Poleepkwa's secondary hands stroke a path over his belly.

"Pretty little friend you have," Adam purred lewdly.

"Back off!" Wikus barked, throwing a punch and managing to clip the large prawn in the brow. Adam released and stumbled back, grasping his forehead and snarling at Wikus. He charged, but Oliver caught him in the middle, throwing him back and tumbling in the dirt with him. He rolled with the large male, kicking and barking. He felt Adam's sharp mouth at his shoulder and chest and an elbow made a painful connection with his stomach, until Oliver finally managed to kick him off, tossing the troublemaker back. Adam rose up into a stand, looking to rush forward again, but he froze, his attention behind Oliver.

Oliver turned, giving a huff of relief at the sight of Christopher. His father strode forward, shoulders pushed back with pride and head raised in dominance. Even though he was smaller and rested at least a foot shorter than Adam, it didn't seem to hinder his ability to threaten. A few larger Poleepkwa followed behind him, growling low threats. Adam glanced around at the others, and then chuffed out a laugh, waving his hand.

"To hell with your tolerance group."

"Be gone, Adam," Christopher snapped, taking a step toward him that Adam quickly backed away from.

Adam made another chuffing noise and then turned, stalking away, his few like-minded friends trailing after him, tearing at cans of food as they went, leaving more destruction in their wake. Christopher huffed, and then knelt down, helping Oliver into a stand. Wikus and Lesedi rushed forward and Oliver shuddered to feel her soft hands find his middle, stroking a fretful path over his abdomen.

"Are you okay?" she asked, cringing to see his shoulder. "You're bleeding."

"I'll be fine," he said, looking up at his father. "Where were you before? I thought you said you'd be here?"

"Some of Adam's friends were making trouble near an egg hut," Christopher replied, frowning severely. "I had to check it out. I'm sorry it took so long."

"We're just relieved you showed at all," Wikus added, his gaze affection, and Christopher returned the look, touching at his mate's arm.

"He didn't hurt you?"

"Hardly. I'm more worried about little Ollie," Wikus crooned, tilting his head to survey his son, but his eyes reflected a sincere concern, one that Christopher mirrored.

"I'm fine," Oliver repeated, taking a deep breath, his stomach aching. Christopher opened his mouth, no doubt to chide him. It wasn't the first time Oliver had tried taking up his stance as a dominant male against someone older and more physically powerful, and nearly lost.

"You were really brave," Lesedi said before Christopher could speak, her voice reverent, and Oliver felt a wash of heat overtake him that erased the pain. He smiled down at her, and then noticed the bruising along her wrists. He reached up and catching them, holding her with all the care of a man holding a butterfly, but fury clouded his mind, made his muscles ache and tremble.

"He hurt you," he barked, narrowing his eyes.

"I'm okay!" she flushed, shaking her head. "Really."

"I'll break him!" He moved as if to turn away but she caught his hands, leaning back from him and forcing him to move with her, away from the direction Adam had gone in.

"Oliver really!" She pleaded, gazing up at him imploringly. "Please. It's not a big deal."

He forced himself to relax, looking instead back to the bruising on her wrists. He hadn't realized Adam had grabbed her with such force, and suddenly he worried about the rest of her. There was a hint of bruising along her chin where she'd hit his back and at the dip of her shirt he could see the hint of discoloration over her sternum. Was there damage anywhere else?

"Maybe we should get you checked out," he suggested. Her eyes widened and she pursed her lips, shaking her head.

"N-no need."

"My son's right," Christopher said, looking down at her with an authority even she couldn't argue with, one that went beyond species. He reached forward, a gentle touch settling on her shoulder. "Please. I would feel most guilty if you were to suffer any permanent damage for trying to keep my son's behavior in check." He passed Oliver and affection grin, tilting his head. "Come."


End file.
